


A Regular Cliché

by FreshBrains



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:37:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2747984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How’re we doing out here, girly-girl?” Clint appeared in the window-sill, shirt off, a butterfly bandage low on his ribcage.  “Are you an academic yet?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Regular Cliché

**Author's Note:**

> For the LJ comment_fic prompt: _any, any/any, "You realize we're living a cliche, right?" "If it feels this good, why complain?"_

“How’re we doing out here, girly-girl?” Clint appeared in the window-sill, shirt off, a butterfly bandage low on his ribcage.  “Are you an academic yet?”

“Rude,” Kate muttered, shutting her book.  She wrapped her sweater tighter around her shoulders.  “It’s chilly, why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

“Why are you wearing a sweater like a necklace?” Clint tugged her sweater down further to cover more of her arms, giving her ponytail a tug for good measure.  “You look like a damn fool.”

“I look,” Kate sniffed, adjusting the purple article, “like a twenty-one-year-old girl.  A regular old college girl, reading a book outside on the fire escape, enriching my innocent mind.”

Clint snorted, still hanging onto the top of the windowsill, the muscles in his arms flexing.  “What does that make me?  Your landlord?”

Kate raised an eyebrow.  “Maybe.  Or my valet.  My manservant.”

“Now who’s being rude?” Clint ducked under and sat on the windowsill, draping his legs over Kate’s lap.  She sighed and shot him a glare as her book slipped off her lap and made the long journey down the tiers of fire escapes before landing in a puddle. 

“That was borrowed, you Neanderthal.”

“Give me a kiss, college girl,” he said, cupping the back of her neck. 

She complied, but only a little.  “Ugh, this is so bad.  You look like you’re seducing me.”

“What a cliché,” Clint said dryly.  He unwrapped the sweater from Kate’s shoulders and replaced it with his strong, warm arm.  “There.  That’s better.  Now we just look like a couple’a goons reading books on a damn fire escape, happy?”

“Maybe I like clichés,” Kate teased, leaning into Clint.  “They’re predictable.”

“Katie, there’s not a damn thing predictable about you,” Clint said, nosing at Kate’s hair.  “But I like whatever you like.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Kate said, and smiled as he kissed her.


End file.
